


Fervent

by ianavi



Series: I have your permission? [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU - First Meeting at a Conference, AU - John is a scientist, AU - Sherlock is a scientist, Dom!Sherlock, Fluff, Light BDSM, M/M, POV John Watson, Relationship Negotiation, Sub!John, Yeah... a spot of fluffiest fluff in a supposedly BDSM fic... you've been warned..., slightest angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 10:15:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8708593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ianavi/pseuds/ianavi
Summary: Fervent. John carefully placed both hands on the tiled wall and let the hot water sluice down his back. He’d spent most of the day trying to calm his nerves, calm the intensity of desire, of feelings he was afraid to acknowledge out loud. --- John's POV of Suited. Just a simple exercise in a/symmetry. Fun for me and hopefully for you, too.





	

Fervent. John carefully placed both hands on the tiled wall and let the hot water sluice down his back. He’d spent most of the day trying to calm his nerves, calm the intensity of desire, of feelings he was afraid to acknowledge out loud.

He had never anticipated meeting a man who’d come to mean so much to him in so little time. Who made him feel confident, cared for. Owned.

But why of all restaurants in London…

He dried off his hair as he looked over the selection of clothes carefully laid out on his bed. Should he wear a tie?

John closed his eyes and sighed. No choice of shirt and tie would make a difference if this dinner was…

Fuck. He couldn’t think about it, no. Please, no. Not that pleading would help.

He’d decided against the motorcycle. There was a small chance he was wrong in his pessimistic predictions and they’d end the evening at Dr. Holmes’s flat.

Of course, getting a taxi Friday evening, in the pouring rain, turned out to be impossible.

He wound up on the tube, squashed between a mob of teens on one side and a rank gentleman that probably needed a physician’s advice. And he was running late! It was… disrespectful, in the least. Oh, fuck.

Finally in the mirrored foyer of the dreaded restaurant he took a look at his messy hair and the now drenched jacket. Well, that was it.

As soon as the waiter walked him in he set eyes on the man. Impeccable. A halo of soft dark curls. An impossibly flattering purple shirt, the top buttons open to reveal a long, pale, stunning neck. And one long finger dragging along the edge of a glass.

John actually stumbled slightly, to the irritation of the crowding waiter.

“Sorry, so sorry!”

He stood at the table unsure if he’d be reprimanded on the spot. Publicly. But Dr. Holmes simply stood up and took him in with one quick and scrutinising look.

“Took the tube, there was a delay, of course.”

With a small smile, and how John wanted it to speak of affection, the man pulled out a chair for him and John could fucking smell his skin. He quickly sat down aware he was blushing.

“The tube?”

“I… this seemed a place with a wine list?” John looked up over his shoulder and was met with an insistent gaze. Oh, please.

Dr. Holmes sat down across from him. “An adequate wine list, yes.” Still smiling.

The waiter reappeared. And proceeded to fawn over Dr. Holmes, all hips and suggestive intonation. He was immediately sent away. John sunk into that piercing gaze, that smile.

“Not interested in the specials then?” He tried to suppress a giggle.

“I am quite certain of my choice tonight.” There was no question of intention any more.

With a fresh rush of arousal John couldn’t help but smile himself.

“Any recommendations?”

“They do an excellent hake in a chicory and anchovy relish, if you’re thinking fish. A balance of salt, bitter notes and umami.”

“Wow.” John looked back at the menu not really seeing it.

“Or are you more of a game man, John?” One raised eyebrow.

Oh, fuck. There was no chance the whole restaurant wasn’t aware of the erection he was trying to hide under the white serviette.

He cleared his throat. “Fish sounds great, yeah.”

The bloody twink waiter had already been hovering, eyelashes all aflutter.

Dr. Holmes spoke without his gaze leaving John’s. “We’ll both have the hake. And bring a plate of your,” he smirked, “‘root veg nibbler’ to share as a starter.”

John was lost on the brief but incredibly precise choice of wine and vintage that followed.

“You seem to be a regular here.” If there was anyone John knew who looked at home with a cut crystal glass in hand…

“Once or twice. They are well known to source locally. The hake is a good sustainable fish to eat, especially gillnetted, off Cornwall…” And the first stern look of the evening.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” John grinned like an infatuated idiot.

“A good working week?”

“Quite good. A new grant’s come in and one of my PhDs has had an article accepted.”

“Oh, should have opted for a finer bottle then.”

“Oh, this is… more than I expected. Not exactly a beer and some peanuts, is it?”

He was an idiot. As if this man had ever touched a bowl of peanuts set out in a dingy bar.

“I’m glad you approve. The Trotting Mare down the street was booked for a stag night.” And a wink!

And just like that, as they both laughed, and the rest of the tension dissipated.

The food and wine were served. The waiter glancing at John with some puzzlement. Yeah, yeah, I get to kneel at those polished leather oxfords pretty boy, go away.

Soon, sipping the wine, they were engaged in a heated discussion of some lab work that had been driving John’s team crazy the past week. Dr. Holmes listened carefully and prompted him with several interesting suggestions.

In fact, some outright amazing solutions. John couldn’t resist. As the waiter approached them to fill their glasses, he asked for a pen and started making notes on the edge of his serviette. His lap less of a crisis point at the moment.

Dr. Holmes asked if he was happy with the fish and he confirmed it was exceptionally good. A second bottle of wine was ordered and John realised he’d been doing most of the talking.

“Am I talking too much? It’s the wine. And, well, you. And seeing this place…” John glanced around. So different than what he’d expected, well, dreaded.

“This place?”

“Yeah, it’s fantastic, actually.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

Might as well come out with it. “I… I didn’t want to say. I’d been here before.”

The concern was clear on the man’s face. Did he think anyone else could have upstaged him…

“No, it’s perfect, the food, everything. Thank you, really.”

“John…?”

John shrugged self consciously. “A bit embarrassing. Never made it past the bar last time… Met someone. A first date. We were waiting for our table, having a drink at the bar. She kept answering her phone…”

“Yes?”

“Well, the date was canceled then and there, at the bar. Between her taking two phone calls. A successful international curator…” Yeah, and a ‘wee man’ who had no experience and no idea what he was getting into. “I was found… lacking.”

This time the raised eyebrow had a very different meaning.

“My… physique. She left. After a mortifying dressing-down. Yeah… I was still somewhat weak after my accident, my shoulder was a mess, and she had her sights on suspension… Gave up that website…” That was three years ago.

The tiresome waiter chose that moment in particular to reappear with the dessert menu. He was sent away with a cutting remark and a dismissive expression John truly hoped he never had to face.

He took several calming breaths. Why, why did he say anything?! Things were going so well… Was he drunk?! Idiot, idiot…

“John.”

“Listen, I… should not have mentioned it. The dinner was exceptional, really. And you. I’ve had a wonderful time… I just wanted to say, if you’ve been rethinking… If this was the reason…”

He closed his eyes.

And opened them in alarm as a foot stepped firmly, painfully, over his own under the table.

“John, I am an accomplished man. If I were to retire tonight I’d still have a career most of British academia can only dream of.”

OK, whatever he was into, it wasn’t humiliation. He was not looking into a reprise of that, thank you very much. He had dignity, as a man and as a scientist. He sat up straighter. “Yes, well aware.”

“And the biggest accomplishment of my life so far has been waking up to you in my arms.”

“Oh.”

He suddenly felt lightheaded.

“You bring me such unexpected joy, John. Your submission is… Arresting. Humbling.”

He shivered.

“Your physique? You are breathtaking. My last attempt at a full day’s restraint with you… barely lasted until lunch time. I have never experienced such intense desire… I find us uniquely suited to each other. And there is nothing I want more in life than to care for you.”

John attempted to say something but his mouth was dry, “I…”

The sole of that large shoe firmly pinning his foot down, John watched as an elegant hand reached over the table and wrapped long, warm fingers around his wrist.

“And since practically everyone is an idiot, some… curators… more than others, I have the absolute privilege of inviting you to dinner tonight… to ask you for something more permanent.”

The hand tightened and he felt excitement.

“I’d like to devote myself to you, John.”

John could not remember how they made it out of the restaurant, except for a firm hand at the small of his back, another adjusting his jacket collar and sliding slowly around his throat.

The taxi ride to Dr. Holmes’s flat took long, but John didn’t mind. He was held by sure hands, pressed against the man’s side. He allowed himself to sink a bit towards the enticing smell of wool, skin, musk.

Finally, they stood just inside the door of the flat.

He swayed on his feet and a strong hand steadied him at the elbow.

A whisper against his temple. ”I have your permission?"

John smiled.

"Yes."

Yes, always yes.

And the man simply picked him up into his arms and carried him towards the bedroom. He made a small, embarrassed noise of protest. Only to feel an even tighter embrace.

“John, you are mine. And if I wish to have you in my arms, in my bed, I will.”

And set on the bed he was, and very proficiently divested of his shoes, jacket, and the rest of his clothes.

He looked up to see Dr. Holmes slide off his blue scarf. To wrap tightly around John’s wrists.

“Now, I do believe you were fifteen minutes late to dinner tonight.”

Yes, please.


End file.
